Shadouge Comic Novels & Stories

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" After his soliloquy, his truck drove pass a sign post which read 'Welcome To Shade' underneath captioned 'Shelter For All'. Which the side he drove from was written 'Farewell From Shade'. The End.

But that wasn’t what he was drawing today. There was a picture of two girls—rendered crudely in crayon, but still identifiable as girls. One of them had short blond hair and the other had long brown braids. Their hands were on their faces and their mouths open in screams. David had drawn these as big black circles. A huge black shadow hovered before them, a shapeless body with red eyes and clearly defined hands. The hands looked like long silver knives. There were many drawings before this one. Lauren wondered how long David had been at it.

Many innocent young boys had lost their lives to the ambitions of tycoons who couldn’t get enough of wealth. My heart vibrated with joy every time I heard a boy say that his area was free. I advanced to the luxury cabin of the ship and Frank walked to the top deck. It was far too quiet. I was hoping to find the two wounded and not dead. I wanted to see Kevin and his clan’s crime-filled era finally come to an end. I walked into the booth to find only Luke and a half-naked lady. The woman was tucked into a corner, shaking like a wart, and Luke was lying on the ground. The rest of the room appeared to be clean.

A dark, malicious chuckle rippled from his chest, causing fresh tears of absolute terror to spill over my tightly closed eyelids. "Let me go..." I whimpered, my voice entirely devoid of strength. He suddenly erupted into a loud, mocking laugh that sent a violent shiver of dread straight down my spine. With a sudden, aggressive motion, he shoved my face away, releasing his grip on my jaw. But before I could even draw a breath, the heavy palm of his hand came crashing violently against my cheek. The sheer, brutal force of the slap sent my head snapping to the side, my face forcefully tilted toward the dirt.

The morning light filtered weakly through the curtains, casting fractured patterns on the floor — much like my thoughts, splintered and jagged. I sat at the small kitchen table, clutching my cup of cold coffee, staring at the leather-bound book *Reflections of the Forgotten* open before me. The stories inside weren’t just tales — they were warnings, lessons written in sorrow and hope. Women who had lived as shadows, trapped in lives borrowed from others, fighting to reclaim their own reflections.

But she stayed upright through sheer stubbornness. Through pure rage, that filled her chest. She couldn't die here. She wouldn't. She had to move. Had to find shelter. Had to survive. In the rogue territories, staying in one place meant death. Rogues were territorial. Dangerous. They'd kill for her boots. For her clothes. For nothing at all except the pleasure of it. Lyra stumbled through the forest, not knowing where she was going. Not caring. Every step hurt deep into her bones.

"Listen carefully, I don't love you nor I want you. You are nothing to me. You will never interfere in my life and never enter my room or in my study. Get that in the thick head of yours. And of course stay away from me. I never wanted any of this. If it wasn't for my parents I wouldn't have married a girl like you." He spat those venomous words and left her there. She stayed there shocked to the core. She didn't expect him to love her either but still he could have shown her some respect. She knew he didn't want to marry her. He did it because his parents forced him to. That exact moment She realised she was nothing more than a Shaded Woman. It seemed like she would always be a mare shadow

She challenged. “We are Shadow Dwellers.” He spoke. “I am Daniel. Drake sent me.” “What the hell is that?” she said confused. “Drake from school? You’re joking right?” “No Ivy, we’ve been following you around since you moved here, to make sure you are who you’re supposed to be.” He spoke. “We see both shadows and whites, do you know what those are?” Shaking her head, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Right, so you four are from the nuthouse. Guess what? Get out of my house!” she growled shaking the knife at them.

Ezeugo laughed in a boisterous manner and Okwudili joined him too. "That is a lot of good in one sentence," Okwudili looked up. There was something odd about Ezeugo's laughter. A month ago when Ezeugo had visited him and told him about the bad dreams he was having and the constant threat a masked man in his dream had made to him, he had laughed in the same exuberant manner. Okwudili was worried about that laughter because it looked as if the bulgy cheeks that created them had a lot of hidden stories that it was afraid to tell.